


soft mornings

by ElasticElla



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, or late season 3 anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6773671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rain catches them by surprise, slow heavy droplets soaking their clothes and softening the ground below them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	soft mornings

The rain catches them by surprise, slow heavy droplets soaking their clothes and softening the ground below them. It's the softest wake up call imaginable, and perhaps Marcus would care more about his favorite jacket probably being out of commission for the rest of the day- but god, this peace is like a dream. 

Indra sits up with a wry smile, hands against his chest. “Do you need to go inside, my delicate skyborn?” 

“How very accommodating of you,” Kane says, making no move to rise. He brushes away the rain drops on her cheeks, and Indra laughs, a wide smile lighting up her face. 

“You going to do that until the clouds move on?” 

“I could be persuaded,” he says, and then Indra's tilting down to capture his mouth. She feels even warmer than usual with the cool rain surrounding them, seeping into his bones. She surrounds him, overwhelms him so easily. He's been sharply grateful to be alive for quite some time now, but Indra, Indra makes him _happy_ to live. 

And she's taken the lead as she often does when Marcus gets lost in his head. (An indulgence that could get Trikru killed, Indra pointed out the first time it happened.) Her bare thighs frame his face, and he comes off auto-pilot, leaning up to lick and sneaking a hand into his pants. When he was younger he used to fantasize about submissive naked women and men in suits- his younger self would be appalled at how very close yet impossibly far away he is from the fantasy. Indra's almost always the one fucking him, not that it matters. (The reverse, the fighting for power rather than succumbing only happens after close calls, when he needs proof that they're both still alive.)

The rain has let up is the first thing Kane notices, coming down from his orgasm; the second is a scout who's seen entirely too much of both of them. Or him at least- Indra is unflinchingly meeting their eyes and talking and Marcus is _very_ good at pretending none of this is happening.

“Oh fuck,” He groans once the person is gone, hiding his face in Indra's lap. “Tell me I didn't know them and will never have to look them in the eye.” 

Indra snorts, petting his damp hair. “Unlikely, but he'll talk.” 

Marcus looks up suddenly, the thought hitting him embarrassingly late. He knew they were on the quiet side for both of their people but he wasn't sure what the exact ramifications were for Indra. 

“Is that going to be a problem for you?” 

Indra cocks her head, “It is customary for leaders to bond themselves to those of other tribes.”

He relaxes, “Are you asking me to marry you?” 

“Don't your people use rings?” Indra counters. 

Marcus nods, “What do you use?” 

Indra's lips twitch, “Every tribe is different, most agree upon a new fur and weapon.” 

“Useful,” he says, like he isn't already thinking about the best way to capture and skin a jungle cat. He should talk to Lincoln about the weapon, maybe a new long knife or-

There's a sudden lack of warmth as Indra rises, collecting her clothes. “Let's go inside, you're shivering.”


End file.
